


It's not pity

by JanaRumpandRCJawnn (JanaRumpandRCClara)



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Wolfgang's dad is an abusive dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:28:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4213173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaRumpandRCClara/pseuds/JanaRumpandRCJawnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolfgang is no longer alone dealing with his ghosts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's not pity

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do some work on Wolfgang's past, and I wanted to add a few interpretrations me and Jana had.
> 
> This fic contains child abuse and implied rape, if that triggers you, don't read it.

She missed writing. Not having her blog to pour her thoughts into was very, very frustrating. So Nomi decided to just do some planning for when she finally made it back to her routine – it would happen, she had to tell herself that.

Amanita had gone to get them some food, so Nomi was sitting alone on her couch. She missed Will sometimes, as he was the one she had the strongest connection to, but right now it was too dangerous to visit him. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. She wanted to write something about abuse, about violence against those who couldn’t defend themselves… She wanted to write about surviving.

The words weren’t coming out though, at the moment she had only some lines on it. And it was frustrating as hell. She didn’t wanna fall on the clichés or the same motivational lines, and it was staggering. Nomi closed her eyes and let her head fall back, wishing for someone to listen to her ranting and to brainstorm with her.

“Here I am.” She heard Wolfgang almost singsong from behind here, and Nomi turned to see him laying on her couch.

They hadn’t seen each other yet, not alone at least, but she knew him nonetheless. He was one of them, after all.

“Wolfgang, right?” She asked, looking at him, attention caught by this new part of (essentially) herself.

The man smirked and nodded.

“And you’re Nomi.” Wolfgang sat up. “You’re having trouble writing.”

“Yes. And indeed, I am."

The man got up and went to stand behind her, reading her words. She could feel his judgment, but it didn’t bother her. He wasn’t assuming she couldn’t talk about it, he was just evaluating her work.

“So..?” Nomi asked after she could feel he had stopped reading.

“It looks good, I suppose. I don’t write much.”

Nomi frowned, because she could tell there was something behind his act, something behind the mask. It bothered her some, but she just shrugged it off.

“I’m doing this based mainly on my experiences, since I can’t go off and interview people. I’m just… afraid I suppose? Of not being able to capture the whole feel-“

There was a sudden rush of sadness and fear entering her body, and she knew it was his feelings channeling to her. So Nomi did the one thing she could think of at the moment, she touched his arm.

And the memories crashed on her like flood gates had been opened.

They weren’t in her apartment anymore, they were in a infirmary – in a school, it seemed. There was a woman holding their hand, in her late twenties and obviously the nurse.

“How do you manage to get yourself this beaten up?” She held their chin and moved it from one side to her other.

Nomi could see their reflection, a bruised and dirty young boy, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She knew it was them, that it was Wolfgang and, right now, that it’s her too. The nurse touched a bruise on their neck, which made them flinch and try to move away. No, she was not supposed to touch there. The woman pulled back.

“What is this?”

She pulled the collar of their shirt, then, and she touched the bruise on their neck. By the way she positioned her fingers Nomi could deduce (if deep down she hadn't already known) what was there – the bruised mark of a hand.

“One of the other boys did this to you?”

They scoffed, because she knew none of the boys had a hand that big. Young Wolfgang shook his head, and the woman clasped his shoulders, trying to pass some sense of security. It was an obvious fail, she couldn’t help him.. Not when she asked.

_“Do you have any other bruises like this?”_

They couldn’t lie to her, she reminded them of his mom. So, they nodded and pulled up their shirt, showing another bruise in the shape of hand, this one grabbing the side of his waist. The nurse tried to hide her shock, and she gulped. Before she could ask anything else, they pointed to their thighs. The woman bit her lower lip for a split of second, before touching their cheek.

“Can you tell me who did this?”

Nomi could feel the panic. No, they couldn’t tell her, they couldn’t tell anyone. No one would help them. If people tried… those people _would_ die, and they didn’t want blood on their hands. So they just shook their head and looked down, grabbing the edge of their shirt. The nurse took a deep breath.

“Wolfgang, can I call your dad or shouldn’t I call him?”

This was a test. He wouldn’t escape his dad, as long as the bastard was alive Wolfgang couldn’t escape him. His dad was this big bad legend, and Wolf was just a scrawny kid with one friend and no money.

“You can call him.” They muttered, feeling the taste of the bile coming up their throat. It would be bad, but still it was probable that he wouldn't even show up. Mostly likely too drunk to do much of anything. Yeah, he might be too drunk.

The memory fast forwarded and Nomi could feel their blood pumping when _that_ man came in. Every fiber of their being was telling them to run and hide, but instead they remained quiet. Body all tensed up, the man stood in front of them.

“Boy. The nurse says someone’s hurt you, that true? Or did your skinny boyfriend finally do something?”

They don’t say a word, just keep looking down. The man grabs their shoulder, and they close their eyes, trying to hold back the tears and the fear.

“What is it, boy?”

They can’t answer. The words are trapped in their throat. If they say the truth, someone did hurt them and this person is staring at them right now, Wolfgang will be dead. They can’t lie though, they are not gonna give the fucker the taste of victory. So, they bite the inside of their cheek to keep themselves quiet. There is an uncomfortable moment of silence, until his father grabs their arm and pulls them up.

“Making such a fuss of over some bruises, fucking bitch.”

He grabs so tightly that Wolf knows there’s going to be another hand shaped bruise there by the time they get home. The man drags them despite the objections of the nurse. And Nomi knows what waits them back at home, punches and slurs and their face pressed against a dirty mattress.

And they are back to her apartment in San Francisco. Nomi can feels the tears running down her face as she stares up at Wolfgang. His expression remains as blasé as it was before, but now she could see the cracks on it, and it hurt her. The man gulped and moved away.

“You’ll do a good job with that text.”

“Wolfgang…”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” He spits, aggressive, before vanishing.

-o-

Watching Felix like that killed him. He wouldn’t leave his best friend's side unless the nurses and doctors kicked him out, like right now. And even in times like this, all he could do was go to a park and have a cigarette, thinking about when the police would find him and then there would be another part of their cluster in jail. Who would take care Felix then? Who would make sure his hospital bills were paid for and he was safe?

“We would never leave him unprotected.” Lito’s voice came from his right.

Wolfgang didn’t turn to look at him, just offered the cigarette he'd been smoking. Lito took it without ceremony.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t need to thank us, he’s our friend too now.”

Wolfgang wanted to say that he wasn’t, that none of them had been there while they were growing up, none of them had broke into Felix’s window and slept in his bed because they were terrified of going back home. They had access to those memories too now, but they hadn't been there. The conversation died there at his silence, as expected. Well, until Lito started speaking again.

“Daniela is fine now. She’s still a bit edgy from all she’s been through, but you know she’s much better now with us.”

“Man, you’re subtle like a horse.” He almost growled. “When did she tell you?”

“She didn’t need to tell me, we’re connected too. I could feel it in you.”

Wolfgang hated this, he hated feeling this exposed, and the only way he could react to that was with bitterness and aggression.

“I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity, it’s love.”

The worst part about that cheesy line? Wolfgang could feel the man meant it. There was warmth and, indeed, love for him right there, ready for the taking and already softly fulfilling his chest. He could feel all the others in that love too, distant and silent and there all the same. He wouldn’t break down and cry and make a big speech about how this had suddenly changed his life, because those would be lies, and he wasn’t a liar. So all he did was get the cigarette back and continue smoking, adding after a long silence with a teasing tone.

“That a line from one of your movies?”

**Author's Note:**

> If this fic gave you feels, please feel free to leave a comment, a kudo, whatever you like.
> 
> Kissus


End file.
